Dark Scars
by hauntedfogg
Summary: Hermione, appointed Head Girl, returns to Hogwarts for her eight year and finds something disturbing in the bathrooms late one night. Not all is well in the minds of children of convicted death eaters. Contains eating disorders, self harm, non-con and generally dark behavior. Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Another pretty messed up one shot. Warnings: non-con, self-harm, eating disorders and it's just generally a mess down there. Please review, thanks.**

The early Autumn weather had yet to affect the route to Hogwarts, trees remained vividly green and animals the passed appeared unaffected by the cooling weather. This was what Hermione had noted from her compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Ginny chatted animatedly to Neville and Luna, the other occupants of their shared compartment. Hermione longed for her nature and ability to push her longing for her love to the side. As expected, Hermione missed Ron the second the train left platform nine and three-quarters.

Rather than taking the offered "Eight Year", as Hogwarts had named it, Ron and Harry jumped at Minister Shaklebolt's offer of Auror training to those that had taken part in the battle of Hogwarts. Hermione herself had been offered various positions in the ministry to aid in creating a government free of corruption but declined them, N.E. came first. She didn't begrudge Harry and Ron for not coming back to Hogwarts with her, understanding their need to start their own lives but mourned the end of their time together at Hogwarts. She was, however, grateful for the potential for little to no rule breaking without them; a thought that made her smile. The conclusion of their adventures was not here but would arrive soon, as they all worked at having normal lives, careers and families.

Another reason Hermione declined the ministry had been pinned proudly to her school robes. Along with the letter requesting her presence at Hogwarts was the Head Girl badge. Never had she ever felt so proud and she quickly ran to her room to write a reply to Headmistress McGonagall, as shouts of praise filled the burrow. Later she felt guilty, was it really fair that she was the Head Girl when the seventh year girls would miss out so she could relive her glory days as a well-respected student? She still would have been a prefect had she not accepted the role and found herself feeling rather selfish.

"You should head to the front of the train, Hermione," Neville suggested, bringing Hermione out of her thoughts, "It's already been ten minutes, as nice as it is to sit with you, you'd best not be late."

"Bloody hell, you're no fun, Nev," Ginny laughed before giving Hermione a hug, "I'll see you at the carriages!"

Hermione rose from her seat, slowly making goodbyes. She inwardly cringing at what she was about to face as she stepped out of the compartment alone. As expected, students in the corridor stopped to stare at her, some looking afraid and others looking as though they had seen a religious figure. She smiled politely at them, pushing through and ignoring the faces pushed against compartment windows peering at her. She had faced this all summer, especially when Harry had been around. It was to be expected, after all she did help the savior of the wizarding world. Relief from the stares did not come until she reached the prefects' compartment.

The next stare came from her, directed at Blaise Zabini perched in the corner sitting with his head held high and his Head Boy badge glinting in the sunlight. Hermione Granger found herself very confused. Zabini had returned to school and had been giving a position of authority? It rendered her speechless. From memory he was an arrogant blood-purist, hardly meeting the criteria for his new role, being neither good nor honest.

"Granger, you're late," Blaise smirked.

She mumbled her apologies and began examining the prefects, the only familiar faces being those of Hannah Abbott and Anthony Goldstein. She hurriedly introduced herself and invited them to do the same. Going off the radar does not do wonders for your social life. She struggled to remember the new names and faces, some she recognized from during the Battle. She made a note to herself not to make a fuss over it but still mention that she was grateful at some point. From there she gave each of the prefects an area of the train to patrol, delegating the front compartments to herself and the head boy.

Hermione sank into her new seat across from the arrogant Slytherin. Not eager to start a conversation, she stared out the window and considered patrolling her area earlier than planned. It was uncomfortable to be that close to the Slytherin, reminding her that she didn't know who else was going to appear in the eighth year. She hadn't even thought to ask McGonagall. She felt his eyes bore into her and the scar left by Bellatrix tingled. Mudblood. Instead of acknowledging him, she continued to watch the countryside roll by.

"So, Granger," he began, breaking the silence, "I just want you to know that I was never a Death Eater, in fact I looked down on Draco for joining them."

Hermione looked at him. His chin, that was held high in the presence of others, had lowered as he looked almost ashamed at the floor. The slouch of his back startled her, this was something she couldn't recall seeing him do. Instead of responding, she stood and walked along the train.

If Zabini watching her made her scar tingle, then Malfoy made it burn. The sight of him reminded Hermione of her night at the Malfoy Manor in excruciating detail, down to the maniacal laugh of Bellatrix Lestrange. She first saw him as she tried to find Ginny in the crowd. He looked haggard like he hadn't slept in days, his once styled hair rested limply around his face like it was months since it had been cut. The most prominent change was the weight he had lost. His face had always been sharp and pointed but now it was as though his skin was stretched along his bones and he was lost in the excess material of his robes, much like Harry had been when he had first got to Hogwarts in Dudley's clothes.

The next had been as he picked at his food during the Feast, none of it reaching his lips. He sat away from the Slytherins, in silence. In return, they ignored him, allowing extra space for him as though he had a contagious disease. That would at least explain the appearance of him wasting away, Hermione thought. She watched him until he lifted his gaze from his plate to look around the Great Hall, until his eyes found hers. She quickly looked away and got Ginny's attention to distract herself from the pain of the scar. This behavior continued throughout the term and despite her fear of his presence she became increasingly worried about his health.

He grew smaller each day and would only eat of he had to. Occasionally he would sit with Zabini but wouldn't say a word as the term progressed, he sat with his friends less and less. Even Pansy stopped draping herself around him completely. This was the mark that showed Hermione something was wrong, but she didn't dare get close enough to find out.

On a Saturday night, she made her rounds. She walked slowly, checking in classroom doors as she went she had already caught two seventh years trying to make their way to an abandoned classroom to snog or whatever it was teenagers got up to on a cold night. Coming to the end of her patrol she heard whimpering and the sound of someone vomiting in the boys loo. The noises echoed down the empty corridor and she entered the bathroom casting a muffliato, in case Filch was around. He was not nearly as sympathetic to sick students as she was.

"Are you alright?" Hermione called gently, walking down the stalls, "I could hear you from the corridor. I think you know you shouldn't be out of bed but I can see what I can do to get you out of trouble if you're not feeling-"

Hermione gasped as her eyes meet Malfoy's crouched form with his face next to the toilet bowl as he burped up a slug. She groaned a little, slug-vomiting charms were disgusting. She remembered when Ron had tried to cast the charm on the boy in front of her but it backfired and she ended up comforting him for ten minutes while it passed. She ran her hands through her hair realizing comfort was probably what Draco needed too. She kneeled down next to him, reaching out her hand slowly like he was a hippogryph. He vomited slime into the bowl and Hermione rubbed his back gently, trying to make soothing sounds. Finally he burped up the last of the slugs and curled into a ball, allowing Hermione to continue rubbing him.

"It's not really nice, is it? Vomiting slugs," Hermione said, "Could you tell me who did it and what you were both doing out of you common room?"

A muffled no came from Malfoy and she ceased her physical contact with him as he moved upright. Hermione was grateful to see his skin had lost the pearly sheen and sallow complexion associated with the charm. She conjured a cup from a loose tile and used Aguamenti to give the boy something to drink.

"Well I can hardly keep you out of trouble if you don't tell me what happened," she stated.

"I didn't see who it was."

Hermione sighed and looked around the stall, noticing for the first time blood on the floor dripping out of Malfoy's robes. Flashes of her blood dripping from Bellatrix's blade entered her mind. Squeals of laughter, the cruciatus curse. Her scar throbbed.

"And that's yours I imagine," she said pointing it out, tugging at his sleeve to reveal gashes up his arms.

"Granger, please don't."

She had seen this in muggles before, when they were unstable they sometimes did it. Malfoy's injuries were clearly done by his wand rather than manually judging by the burnt edges of the wounds and the tidiness and perfection in placement. All the same depth, width and length, they ran vertically up his arm. She struggled to find words to say she continued pushing up his sleeve.

"Don't!" he gasped, grabbing her arm above where she knew his dark mark would be, "Stop."

She halted, she didn't think she wanted to see either, "I knew you you weren't eating but this… I think you need help. I could take you to Pomfrey and she could help you."

Draco watched her rub her own arm, "Maybe you're the one that needs help, Granger. You tell anyone about this and I'll tell everyone what you're hiding under your own sleeve" he bluffed praying he was right.

The look of terror in her eyes showed that he was right. Hermione hadn't had the word mudblood removed from her skin. His aunt had done it with a regular blade, meaning a good salve was all it would take to remove the scarring. He had noticed her touching it if he stood too close or was caught staring at the Gryffindor.

He reached out to roll up the sleeves of her sweater and blouse to reveal the horrid word, "I'm not the only one hiding things."

Once she had departed the bathroom Hermione's life was taken over by avoiding Malfoy. She avoided him like the plague, taking to seats that faced away from him in the Great Hall and distancing herself in shared classes. Clinging to Ginny in the halls, avoiding the dungeons where possible and using the Marauders' Map when patrolling at night, watching out for his name.

They together agreed to keep the others' activities hidden from the rest of the world in exchange for silence. The thought of the boy wasting to his death nagged her conscience and she considered purchasing salve to remove her scar so he had no leverage against her. If anyone took the scar away from her, she would move on with nothing to reminder her of her worth. She finally, after weeks of avoidance, decided she had to tell somebody.

At dinner, instead of walking to where Ginny was waving, she took a turn down to the Slytherin table. She pointedly ignored Malfoy as she made her way to Zabini. Scowling at those that mocked her and reminding them discrimination against blood had become a criminal offence that the headmistress did not take kindly to.

"Zabini, we have things to discuss," she sighed in relief as he stood without making a fuss and allowed her to lead the way out of the Great Hall and into an empty classroom.

"Are you going to try and seduce me, Granger?" Zabini smirked, "You didn't need to take me all the way to this dusty old classroom to do that."

Hermione seethed, "Not everything is about sex, Zabini," she took a deep breath to calm herself, "Have you noticed Malfoy this term, he's not himself."

"No death eaters' sons are themselves these days, have you seen Nott? He's been partying with Hufflepuffs," he snorted in amusement.

"You must have some idea what I mean, he looks like death."

He went sullen at her tone, "He refuses to talk to me. Only eats when I force it on him, just to vomit it up later. I would imperius him but my wand is monitored."

Hermione sat on a desk, "I don't think he only vomits when he eats. I found him after he was hit with the slug-vomiting charm, claimed he didn't see who had done it. Maybe he used it on himself."

Her confession was meet by a snarl, "And you didn't think that was worth mentioning? Anything else you wish to share with the class, Granger?" Zabini snapped.

"He manipulated me to be quiet," she mumbled in response, "He's been breaking his skin, I'm not sure what spell he used. I've only seen it done by muggles with knives."

Zabini paced in front of her, "And what has he got on you, princess mudblood? I could just tell him and find out for myself."

Hermione took a deep breath and bared her soul to the angry boy, sensing no way out of this. She rolled up her sleeve and showed him her secret, revealing thick red lines against milky skin. Her shame and her pain was out in the open willingly for the first time. She was met with a smirk.

"Everyone knows you're a mudblood," he laughed, "Why hide it?"

"It's not that, it's how it go there," she mumbled, launching into the story of what happened at the manor.

Zabini nodded as he understood what she said. He realised why she couldn't tell her friends in an instant. It was similar to how Draco had said felt about cutting out the Dark Mark, it was a reminder of their self hatred and why they needed to be punished. He had left her with the promise that he would speak with Malfoy before he headed back to his dinner and friends, leaving Hermione standing in his wake. He was almost certain he heard her sob as he left the room.

It took a week until Hermione saw Malfoy again. She was heading towards potions when she found herself throttled into the wall and dragged behind a tapestry into a small alcove. With her back against the wall and Malfoy's hands on the wall at either side of her, she felt rather intimidated. He glared down at her, anger dancing in his gaze.

"How fucking dare you, Granger?!" he fumed, "I thought we had an agreement! I thought you didn't want anyone to see this!"

He ripped at her robes and all sleeves under it to show her what he was talking about, as if she didn't already know. She quivered under him, backing as far into the wall as humanly possible. She reached for her wand to have it snatched out of her hands, the tip rested between her eyes. She closed them, being reminded of the manor as her exposed scar burned.

"I could kill you right now," Draco laughed, "You're up against this wall at my mercy."

Out of options, Hermione tried to reason with him, "I had to! You were going to die!"

"Die was I? And you bloody well wouldn't care!"

"I would," she said quietly.

"Of course you would, you and all the blood traitors in the halls would have no one to target without me here. That's why you would care."

She was perplexed by the statement, "You're being bullied… So you're trying to escape. If that's the case then why not just get it over with?"

"You'd like that wouldn't you," he sneered, "To break my mother's heart. I could break yours if you want a demonstration on how it feels."

He let the wand droop from between her eyes. She absorbed the information slowly, filtering through responses. He was staying alive for his mother but didn't want to live. From her understanding, his father was never leaving Azkaban. He was all his mother had left.

"You didn't choose to come back this year, did you?" she whispered.

Malfoy took that moment to kiss her, shoving his tongue into her mouth as she gasped in shock. She could tell from the pressure he was using that this was not a happy kiss of love. This was anger and confusion mixed with pain. She tried to push him off her, only to have her head smacked into the wall. He moved his lips down her throat freeing her lips to talk.

"Malfoy get off of me," she squealed struggling against him, "Don't take this out on me, I know you're angry but stop!"

"You can shout all you want, Granger. No one will hear you," he laughed into her ear, "Muffliato is such a good spell."

He returned to massaging her lips with his own and placed a knee between her legs, forcing them open. He used his knee to rub against her crotch, warming her up. She bit her lip fighting a moan as moisture pooled between her legs. Despite her protesting thoughts she could do little to stop the natural course her body was taking.

She bit his lip as his tongue left her mouth, drawing blood. He moaned in response forcing her legs around his hips, seeking friction for his hardening erection. He rocked his hips into her and could feel her breath speeding up against him. There were hands between them for a moment as he pulled at his trousers and lowered his pants, ripping her panties aside to line himself up. Hermione whimpered as he entered her. She was yet to get this far with Ron and cried out as her virginity was stolen.

"Please, don't do this," she moaned, giving up on struggling and going limp in defeat.

He smirked as he pulled out of her and plunged in again to the hilt, his eyes locked on hers. He pounded into her with a steady rhythm, the thrusts slowly became sloppier as time passed and finally he came inside her, dropping her to the floor in disgust.

"Remember our agreement next time, mudblood,or it might just get worse," he cackled.

That was the moment Hermione Granger realized that Draco Malfoy had gone out of his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Same warnings. I don't own things etc. Here you go, the sequel. **

Hermione spent the next two days acting natural. She studied in the library with Ginny, attended all classes, came down to every meal and in all her normalcy she had yet to see Draco Malfoy. Much to her pleasure, it was a sick kind of happiness flooding her mind. Perhaps he was just as afraid of her as she of him, she had mused. Fear entered her mind as she patrolled the corridors at night, increasing at every sharp corner and ajar classroom door.

Although the fear hadn't subsided she had yet to see a trace of white blond hair. Every second of her time occupied by memories of what had transpired. Forced against a wall, barely out of sight of other students walking freely only feet away. Being dumped on the floor like trash after being forcefully used. Malfoy dropped her wand in front of her, smirking down at her. He dared her to curse him as he adjusted his clothing and went on his way. It took all day for her to return to her feet after that, sore and drained. Hidden from passing foot steps, unnoticed. Her scar burned, reveling in her fear. Proud of what it could do. Proud of its control. She only had herself in this, there was no telling and furthering the pain. She had to stay quiet, remain untouched and put the dark memory in a locked compartment of her mind. There was no suffering only fear of repeat.

Malfoy's return to the Great Hall for breakfast made Hermione choke on her bite of toast. He strode in and quickly sat next to Blaise as Ginny rubbed Hermione's back, oblivious to the cause of her distress. Malfoy's last words to her ran through her mind, "Remember our agreement next time, mudblood,or it might just get worse." The malicious glint in his eyes were gone and he returned to staring vacantly into space as Blaise pushed food at him. He had come back to being a zombie. Hermione was able to watch him all of breakfast as he hadn't dared to look her way. His food untouched, his friends ignored.

A letter from Ron arrived that morning. He talked so happily about aurour training and how much he missed her. If only he knew. Ron constantly plagued her mind. She knew it was foolish, there was no way he could detect if she was a virgin or not. Hymens aren't real, cherries don't pop. But what if he could? What was she supposed to say? And how? In a letter, over the floo? There was no telling. She understood that.

Time rolled around to do her patrol of the corridors. she held her wand out, the tip blindly bright. She found herself wandering back to the bathroom where she had found Malfoy. Unable to stop herself she entered the exact stall. It was there that she cried for the first time in three days. Allowing herself to feel the pain and humiliation he had caused; all thanks to the four walls around her. She lost track of time, sitting there. Lost in the silence broken only by an occasional sob. She may as well have been Moaning Myrtle, crying in a bathroom.

"Granger?" Blaise's voice rang out, piercing the silence, "I know you're in here."

Hermione cleared her throat and rubbed at her face before exiting the stall. She had to crane her neck to look into the tall boy's eyes. She looked almost childlike with shiny eyes and damp cheeks, without even attempting to return to her usual poise. She was weak and vulnerable, in a place she should never be.

"You told him," she croaked out, voice cracking on the lump in her throat, staring up at the boy who had betrayed her.

"He guessed that you had told me," Zabini confessed, "I couldn't lie. He looked so broken when your name left his lips."

She took this moment to attack the boy. Crying out as she pounded at him, knocking him to the ground. How dare he do this to her! Zabini went with the change of events in confusion, allowing the girl to hit him. It didn't hurt much anyways, she was weak, her fists soft. He waited until she finally slid off him crumpling on the tiled floor.

"I hate you," she whispered.

"What did he do?" he finally asked after her breathing evened.

"He stopped me on my way to class. Pulled me behind a tapestry. Forced me against a wall."

Blaise sighed, knowing where this tale was going, "You should report it, Granger. That's all you can do."

"But he'll tell people about the scar!"

"Then remove it. No one would believe it was ever there."

"I can't. "

"Maybe he should tell people then. Clearly it holds some sick sentimental value to you. It's not just him that needs a trip to St Mungos. Maybe I'll just report it for you."

Hoping that would be her last encounter with menacing Slytherins with fierce threats for the night, she made her way back to the common room. The hope was short-lived. From the shadows, Malfoy emerged watching Zabini and Granger part ways. He seethed and fought back a growl. They had been plotting against him, he just knew it. He selected her as the easiest target, after his last victory she stood no chance. He was quiet as he followed her, waiting for her to fall off guard. She lowered her wand for only a second, to have her arms grabbed from behind. Her head was bashed into an irate portrait. Darkness was all that followed.

"Granger," a voice crooned, "Time to get up."

Hermione squinted at her surroundings, eyes cracking open into a squint. An empty classroom, a roaring fire and cobwebs. No desks, no chairs, just her on the floor. A dark figure stood in the corner, his light hair reflecting the orange tones cast about the room by the fire.

"Malfoy," she tried to stand, to no avail, her body bound.

"I don't think you're going anywhere," he moved towards her, pointing her own wand at her, "Now, what was it you and Blaise were talking about, sharing my secrets again?"

She blinked up at him, confused, "He found me. I didn't say anything."

"I don't think I believe you," he chuckled.

Wordlessly, he used her wand against her, cutting at her stomach through her sweater with an unknown spell. She cried out only able to watch as he carved into her skin. The edges burned and seared immediately like he was using fire to break her skin, when blood finally leaked out of the wound it was a relief against the burn. Too much was spilling out and it made her woozy. It was shocking how effective breaking skin could be.

"How many times do you think I would carve mudblood into your body?" he smirked, "You could have more scars to hide."

"Please stop, Draco, please, just let me go," she whimpered, trying in vain to move her hands to stop the steady flow of blood.

"What were you doing in the bathroom with him?" Draco yelled, "Did you plot against me while you fucked on the toilet floor like the filth you are?! Are you trying to get me locked up, mudblood? So that you can run off with him?"

She cried out as he cut her again, babbling incoherently in response to his insane theories he spat. He accused her of being a whore, tempting everyone around her with impurity. He shouted so loud she didn't understand how no one could hear him, letting his loathing for himself melt into his hate for her. Her only relief from the pain was fear created from Malfoy turning his wand on himself, slashing through his clothing and cutting deep into his own flesh. He could only take a few cuts before the pain consumed him and he sunk to the floor beside his victim.

"I could have loved you," he whispered, his voice breaking the silence, "If you hadn't given yourself to Zabini. This is your fault."

Hermione groaned, unable to move. The pain subsided as the minutes passed, she was able to think again. She processed his words. As she made sense of them he began to laugh. There was no way she could allow him to do this to her again, when she got out of this- and yes she will get out of this, she thought- it was going to end here.

He took control of his senses once more desperate not to lose himself. A small chuckle left his lips as he straddled the girl, pleased by his control. She was his once again, under his control.

He muttered the counter spell, allowing her to move again and tossed her wand at her,"You a free, mudblood, fight how you want."

He smirked as she remained frozen to the ground, the fear pulsing in her veins was audible to him. Encouraging him. He reclaimed what was his, plunging into her, taking her body again until he was set free. He took a few moments to look down at the girl beneath him, she hadn't broken eye contact no matter how hard he had thrust into her dry center. This he admired, her gryffindor bravery demolished under his touch.

He left her there, unable to move she waited for someone to find her in her state of undress, a bloody mess.

Hermione didn't know who found her, or when only that she was found. The memories of the attack taken from her mind without her consent, an attacker doing such horrible things could not be left running around the school of course, the teachers had reasoned. She could do let more than watch as the memories were pulled from her mind in silvery strands. Upon the discovery of the identities attacker havoc was reaped. The infirmary turned to chaos, before her eyes. She did not know what happened next and refused to hear anything, slipping back into the darkness of unconsciousness with the aid of dreamless sleep.


End file.
